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About Johannesburg

And the risks! Oh, don’t get me started. You’re dodgin’ cops, STDs, and God knows what else. I’d be whisperin’ to myself, “This is how I die, isn’t it?” Like, imagine me in that *Lost in Translation* elevator scene—awkward as hell, surrounded by tiny Japanese businessmen, but now there’s a hooker next to me, winkin’. I’d freak out! “What am I supposed to say to her?!” Probably somethin’ dumb like, “So, uh, you come here often?” Total trainwreck.

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Oh man, lemme ramble: I sometimes get so mad at how noise and chaos steal the chill. Like, the truck horns on Van Riebeeck Ave, they make me wanna scream “subtle awesomeness!” But then I remember, like in Tropical Malady “the dream sings a secret lullaby…”, and I grin – it’s all part of the ride.

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